Although it is painfully clear who won the Bengals – Browns game yesterday, I’m not certain who won the Bengals – Packers game played in my backyard around the same time. Both my boys seemed to have sustained minor abrasions. Billy, for once, was excited to see his own blood pouring from his lip. My suggestion that they tone down their tackle “football” to something a bit less aggressive fell on deaf ears.
At one point, I poked my head into the backyard and Fritz said, “Mom, look how muddy I am!” And then Billy said, “Mom, look how muddy I am!” I asked if the point of the game was to get muddy, and Billy answered in the affirmative with a look that seemed both shocked and bewildered that I didn’t already know the answer to that question.
Later, Bill played with the boys and is now nursing an injured knee.
Of course, who I am to point out their foolishness? At least they had fun obtaining their wounds. The palm of my hand and my knee are still stinging from a fall I took this morning barely a tenth of a mile into my run. It would have been much better had I just stayed in bed that extra half hour. Instead of exercising myself and my dog, I hurt myself and put three holes in the only well-fitting pair of running pants I own. And my left ankle doesn’t feel great either, having been rolled off the edge of the pavement causing my fall.
On a good note (always must end on a good note), I have to chuckle at a man I overheard at the grocery store yesterday. He and his wife were contemplating various flavored coffee creamers as I reached for International Delight’s Pumpkin Pie Spice. Having had too many of Starbuck’s Pumpkin Spice lattes (and if you’ve had one, you’ve had too many: my SIL accurately compared them to crack – have one, get addicted), I eagerly jumped at the opportunity to inexpensively recreate the flavor in the comfort of my own kitchen. The man was rejecting the Pumpkin Pie Spice because he felt it was a Thanksgiving leftover. “There must be a reason nobody else wanted it,” he said, implying the reason was that it wasn’t good tasting. I actually paused for a nanosecond, contemplated the under $2 purchase and considered returning it.
But now, as I sit here enjoying this little luxury, I’m happy I didn’t listen to the man. There are many reasons these creamers might be there – not just the possibility that the hoards tried the flavor and found it lacking. The risk of trying it was pretty insignificant; the pleasure of success is immeasurable. It’s a shame the man was more willing to follow what he perceived, possibly erroneously, to be the crowd’s opinion than to take a minor risk and find out for himself the truth.
And I suppose this is the lesson I need to learn today as I whimper over my injuries and wish I’d stayed in bed instead of wasting my morning. I could have gotten a half hour more sleep. But I could get a half hour more sleep every day. Instead, most days, I get up and I run two or three miles with success. Today, I was not successful. There is no guarantee that I will or will not have a good run when I head out at 430 am. But had I stayed in bed, there is 100% certainty that I would not have had a good run by the simple fact that I would not have attempted it.
To paraphrase Moses, we can choose life or death. I say, we can choose a premature death by not living life. God, help me to live.